The stranger's sad eyes looked into Stonewall's feverish eyes. "I knew you would feel this way, Stonewall. You've never let me down. That's why I stopped by here personally to ask for your help. Spring is only a few weeks off and Fighting Joe Hooker is already massing his troops along the Rappahannock. We all have work ahead of us. I'm afraid Richmond will fall unless we move on Hooker quickly and decisively."
Stonewall was doing everything in his power to get off the cot and onto his feet. He tried to roll himself off but was too weak. He struggled for a moment and then lay flat again, breathing hard. "Give me a couple of hours. I'll bring the brigade along. We're in our territory now. Wait til we get them Yanks down around Chancellorsville. Then they'll get a taste of Confederate lead that will send them all back up North, ranting, raving and screaming to hide behind Mary Lincoln's petticoats. Yes sir, we'll rip up old Joe Hooker. Why ... by the time we get through with 'em, they'll be callin' him Whimpering Joe Hooker!"
"I must leave you now, Stonewall. There's a supply train due in any time now. It's supposed to be bringing a load of food and boots for the men." Then the stranger looked hack toward the open doors and whispered to himself, "They've suffered so much." With that, he touched Stonewall's shoulder and then quickly left the barn, leaving the large double doors wide open.
Stonewall lay there looking through the open doors at the moonlit grounds. With each passing minute he seemed to gain strength, vigor. He could feel the adrenaline surging through his body. It was warm now. He just needed a couple hours of sleep was all. He wasn't sick anymore; he was rejuvenated, he was focused, he was re-inspired. He fell asleep.
“WE WILL FIND AND DESTROY THE EVIL BASTARDS!”
Patch yelled as he shook off the dream and sat up in his bed, sweating, shaking, but determined. It was like Edsinger’s head had just landed in his lap again and it was time to take on the fucking enemy.
Needless to say those in the room were all awake now … wondering what the fuck was wrong with Patch; they were concerned and worried but then Patch started to snore as he fell back into deep sleep.
*****
Patch woke up refreshed, his breathing slow and regular. He sat up. It was quiet in the room. The room was empty; the girls had risen hours earlier and left Patch to himself. Golden sunlight was streaming through the window to the left and horizontal bars of warm light were cutting across his back. He looked over at the bedside clock; it was almost noon. He slid off the bed, stood up, raised the blind and pushed open the window that looked out on the dirt road alongside the motel. He put his head through the opening and took in huge gulps of fresh, warm air. The ground below was wet from the previous night's rainfall, sunlight danced off the droplets of water clinging to the grass. For the first time in years he felt really good, untroubled, released. He was grateful to be alive. He was ready to tackle any and all challenges. He was smiling. He realized that a daunting task lay ahead of him and the Curmudgeons but he also knew they would succeed as they always have. He smiled as he got dressed and thought at sometimes the past allows one to think forward to the present. It was the present now on his refreshed mind.
CHAPTER 11
PREPARING TO COOK THE GOOSE
“Remember that when eliminating shitters, we must not come to resemble them.”
“Ok my fine kittens here is what I want you to do,” W.W. Williams said while preaching to his followers in Liberty’s End assembly hall. It was Tuesday morning and the sky shone promise of a clear and warm August day. “Remember all the TNT we found a few years back alongside those old railroad tracks near here. Well, we need to gather up several sticks of that explosive and bring it back here so we can assemble what we need to take down Little Goose Dam and wash all them shitters downstream to the gates of fucking hell.”
“Yada, Yada, Yada.”
“Yes, we will free up the rivers and let them run free … all we need do is to take out all the dams in the Columbia Basin. You know those fucking salmon have a right to their freedom, just as we do.”
“Yada, Yada, Yada.”
“Now if my memory serves me correctly there are somewhere near 60 dams in the Basin…the smaller ones on the Snake River like Little Goose Dam are small compared to the big ones on the Columbia River … we will do one at a time and when finished we will move to other states and take out their fucking dams and kill more of them shitters.”
“Yada, Yada, Yada.”
W.W. getting warmer and warmer to his presentation said, “You know what? Any of those shitters who survive in the big cities we will take over by first establishing a no cop zone within several city blocks and we will kill all those residing within that zone and will move all the homeless assholes in … with the liberal politicians running the Left Coast states and cities they will just declare our actions as a Summer of Love and that is what it will be … lots of free love and wasting of shitters. And all them shitters at the Fake News Networks will report that we are just having a fucking picnic and a real good time. Those slimy bastards define Orwell’s Doublethink—they know what we will do is wrong but that it is also right—it’s a fucking picnic, a fucking Summer of Love. Ha, ha, ha … love my skinny ass … after we get what we want from them double thinkers we will waste those shitters too. So, I ask you is there anything better than that?”
“Yada, Yada, Yada.”
********
A group of 5 of W.W.’s handpicked kittens drove down to the old railroad siding in one of the Compounds large cab pickup trucks. At the door of the railroad storage shed they propped open the locked door with a crowbar and lit the interior up with their flashlights. Surprisingly, the sticks of TNT were still there, dust-covered but still stacked floor to ceiling on one side of the shack. They noted that the other side of the shack contained an assortment of rusting tools and track joints and nails. One of the kittens spit out a long stream of tobacco juice that landed on a rusted anvil and some scattered nuts and bolts on the floor of the shed.
They formed an assembly of five to take out 25 sticks of TNT. The cylinders containing the explosive were covered with dirt and chemical residue. They did not have enough kittens to reach all the way to the truck bed with one turn so the end kitten laid the explosive sticks down on a tarp they had and when they had the total they wanted they moved to the tarp and strung out from there to the truck bed. Inside the truck bed they had a portable plastic ice box or cooler with a thick, foam rubber bottom for safety and that is where they placed the TNT.
Cargo loaded they rested a moment leaning up against the truck bed and they all placed a fresh plug of chew in their mouths and as they loaded into the truck for the drive back to the Compound they chorused in harmony: “Yada, Yada, Yada” and then drove off up the road.
********
While W.W. Williams waited for his kittens to return to Liberty’s End Compound he was busy planning on how to take down Little Goose Dam. Earlier he had assigned two of his trustworthy kittens to travel the 20 miles from the Compound to Little Goose Dam to check it out. He also instructed them to take photos … to act like tourists and to raise no concerns from security personnel at the dam site. Also, he told them to dress in tight jeans and shirts and leave the tobacco in their vehicle and to make sure they were presentable in appearance and if they had to seduce any guard to do it and get as much access as possible.
After the 5 kittens returned from their TNT assignment, W.W. had them store the sticks of explosives in a small storage building away from the main berthing building and assembly hall. When he looked at the sticks of explosives W.W. recognized that the sticks were bleeding chemical residue and instinctively knew and recognized that the sticks were probably unstable—and that was a fact.
Anyway, the two kittens W.W. had sent Little Goose Dam on the Snake River returned with information about what they found there and also with a couple dozen of the digital photos they took at the Dam and surrounding area.
W.W. listened to the two kittens accounts of what they found at the
Dam and he made mental notes of their information.
Basically what W.W. noted from the two kittens accounts he mentally itemized as follows:
Any approach to the dam site during daylight is not recommended because the landscape is wide open prairie hills with no cover to speak of—anyone approaching the dam site from any direction will be easily spotted.
The Dam consists of a regular run-of-river concrete structure with a fish ladder and locks for boat traffic up or down river.
Security guards are present on site 24/7 and appear to be vigilant and professional in conducting their duties.
Overall taking down Little Goose Dam will not be easy and its destruction can only be accomplished in the dark during nighttime.
Might have to boat explosives down river to the spillway during the darkness of night.
W.W. quickly determined that the only way to attack Little Goose Dam and to release Lake Bryan (formed behind the dam) was to provide distraction at the road gate so that security would not be as vigilant as usual. However, if he had a couple of his kittens show up at night the guards would definitely be on-guard big time.
Having realized the challenges ahead, W.W. decided to take the rest of the day and night not only think about the options available to him in destroying the dam but also he had a couple of new kittens that needed some serious probing, so to speak.
“Come and get it … Yada, Yada, Yada.”
Oh that nasty man, Jose, Paco and Maria.
CHAPTER 12
ACES IN THE HOLE
Patch walked into the motel conference room and observed several of his Curmudgeon partners engaged in a Texas Holdem Poker game. Patch was not surprised. The girls, especially JoAnn (a state champion poker player) was always trying to drum up a game; they played for money often. After Patch had retrieved a fresh cucumber from the small conference room fridge he noticed that Hell and JoAnn had most of the chips in front of them; he had no idea of the value of the white, blue and red chips. However, the answer to this mystery was soon provided when Nelly threw in a blue chip and said, “I raise fifty dollars.” A moment later JoAnn threw in three red chips and said, “I call you and raise three hundred dollars.”
Whoa, the price of poker is going up, Jose, Paco and Maria.
Patch now knew the value of the chips (he assumed the white chips were worth one dollar each and he was correct).
Was Patch surprised at the high stakes they were playing for?
No.
Why not?
One thing the Curmudgeons had in common was their personal wealth. Patch and Sue, multimillionaires instantly made all their partners millionaires and equal partners in all money taken in from their investigations. That annual sum to date totaled several million dollars each year.
Patch pulled up a chair behind Mustang Sally and Brown Eyes and sat down and watched the game while he chomped on his cucumber. Sue sat behind JoAnn and L. Lovey and directly across from Patch; like him she was only watching and not playing, she does not gamble.
“Well, dad … was glad you were able to get some sleep.” Sue said.
“Raise five hundred,” Hell said.
“Do you want us to wrap up the game and get down to business, dad?”
“I call and raise you one thousand,” JoAnn said.
“Nope … think we should chill out today and rest up for tomorrow … I need to think through out next move to throw out at you for discussion and suggestions before we take our next move,” Patch answered as Two Green Eyes handed him a Salty Dog.
The poker players smiled and were grateful that they could take this day off to enjoy themselves and to make some cash, hopefully.
Cash makes the world go round, Jose, Paco and Maria.
********
The poker game ended around ten that night. JoAnn was the big winner that day; she won more than ten thousand dollars—in cash, of course.
Of course!
Anyway, after dinner and a round of small talk amongst the Curmudgeons that lasted late into the night, Patch found himself alone in the conference room chewing on another cucumber. He was thinking, trying to figure out their next move tomorrow. Tomorrow is a Thursday and the weather report signaled a clear hot day ahead. That was good, he thought.
He got up from the table and walked over to the door opening to the outside picnic area. He stood there looking up at the star-filled sky and felt the warmth in the air. Well, I think I have a plan … so I will sleep on it.
He slept on it.
********
After a sound sleep with no nightmares or dreams of any type or flavor, Patch woke up feeling rejuvenated. Five minutes later he joined the other Curmudgeons in the motel conference room. Bessie Mae and JoAnn had put together a hearty breakfast and when Patch sat down at the table he was quickly served four eggs over hard, bacon, ham, sausage, hash browns, buttered wheat toast and a large mug of steaming hot coffee.
After breakfast and the clearing of the long table, the Curmudgeons got down to business. Patch opened with, “Fortunately we have discovered one of the people we are looking for. She has been identified as Missy Day. She was identified by a young fellow in Starbuck. Not only did he recognize her from the photo we have but he also mentioned that she stopped by the store on occasion and that she is a proliferate tobacco chewer and spitter. Also, the young man stated that he overheard her say that she lived in a compound a few miles from Starbuck.”
All at the table nodded agreement with Patch’s summary of what they knew about Missy Day.
“So, what is the plan, dad?” Sue asked.
“I think first we need to split into the three teams that we had before and roam around the Starbuck area without stopping anywhere … just sort of driving by to see what is there. If we can’t identify anything that looks like a compound we should all meet at that store where Missy Day apparently buys her tobacco supplies.”
There was a moment of silence and then Patch asked, “So, what do you think?”
Hell spoke up and asked, “So, to be clear, what you are suggesting is that we try to find a compound of sorts and then to return to Starbuck at the gas station/store?”
“In other words you want us to find the compound but take no action until we meet and discuss our next move,” Bessie Mae said.
“Exactly,” Patch said.
“Exactly,” they all chorused.
********
An hour later the three SUVs pulled into the gas station/store in Starbuck. They took on some gas for the vehicles and Patch and Sue went into the store to shop for apple juice; however, they were really inside to see who was inside. The only person they saw was an elderly lady with a hunched back and a toothless, friendly smile. They purchased a few bottles of apple juice and Sue paid the bills for gas for the SUVs. Sue thanked the old lady and she and Patch left the store and met with the Curmudgeons at the side of the station/store.
Patch looked up to the cloudless sky and opened a few buttons on his khaki shirt to let some air inside the shirt because it was getting hot.
“I want to caution you to not engage with anyone along the way … make sure you have your weapons ready in standby … we do not know what we do not know about the perps … they may have eyes where we least expect them,” Patch said.
All agreed and Patch said, “Saddle up …Team up, I mean.”
********
Team 1, Bessie Mae, Sue, Detective Sharp and Crockett lead the way down the highway. Team 2 was second in line with Patch, Brown Eyes, Mustang Sally, JoAnn and kept its distance by 8 or more car lengths from the lead Team. Team 3 with Hell, Two Green Eyes, K. and L. Lovey, and Nelly followed just out of sight of Team 2. It was noon when the three Teams split off into different directions using different paved roads at first; Team 3 followed a dirt road. None of the teams saw anything that looked like a compound until Team 3 rode up to the summit of a small hillock and from the top they could see it.
It?
Yes.
Hell saw it first
. She stuck her arm outside the open right-side window in the back seat, “Look over there.”
Nelly who was driving slowed and steered the SUV off to the right onto a rock-strewn spot that served as shoulder of the road. The five Curmudgeons were all gazing at what appeared to be a ranch with a few small buildings to the left and two larger buildings to the right. They also could see 4 vans, a couple of trucks and an older sedan near the largest building. Off in the distance they could see what appeared to be a small lake or pond.
Two Green Eyes asked, “What do we do now?”
“Good question,” replied K. Lovey.
They continued looking out the windows and surveying the landscape as best they could and then L. Lovey said, “Okay, I will hike along that ridge to our left … the one that bends downward toward that small structure that looks like an outhouse attached to that corral … so I can get a closer look. K. you need to follow me with your AR-15, I will take my throwing ax and Glock … we just don’t know what is down there or what to expect … so we need to be ready for anything,” she said her face full of concern.
“How about the rest of us?” Hell asked.
“I can pull the vehicle down the road a bit and be behind that low ridge in front of us and we can watch L. and K. from there and if the shit hits the fucking fan the three of us can send hellfire in bunches upon any asshole who jumps froggy.”
“Sounds like a fucking plan … and I do like frog legs,” said Hell.
“Frog legs forever!” K. Lovey said.
Let’s eat, Jose, Paco and Maria.
********
She crept slowly alongside the outcropping keeping low as she continued downhill toward the Compound. K. Lovey was about 30 feet behind her sister. L. kept a sharp eye out for any movement below but did not see any … at least not then.
Murder in the Palouse Page 10